Weathering the Storm
by A Traveler
Summary: Bones and Booth get caught in a bad storm on the isolated eastern shore of Virginia. Alone. Chapter 5: The Talk...
1. Chapter 1: Weathering the Storm

**Weathering the Storm**

**Chapter 1: Nor'easter**

Rain came down in sheets, so heavy the wipers couldn't keep the windshield clear long enough for Agent Seeley Booth to see the road. Squinting, he leaned forward and urged his sturdy SUV along the country highway. He had to work hard to stay on his side of the center line-- or on the road at all.

"Whoa," he blurted, when a heavy stream of storm water threatened to sideline the car. He managed to hang onto the wheel as the tires slipped and then gained traction. The drumming of rain on the roof was so deafening he barely heard himself cry out.

"Maybe we should stop," his companion mused calmly. "I don't remember hearing that the weather was going to be this bad."

"Yeah. But sometimes storms are worse down here near the coast."

Booth continued to strain to see his way as he crawled along. A blinding stab of lightning illuminated the fading twilight followed closely by a resounding crack of thunder. They both jumped.

Booth and Brennan had spent most of the day investigating the disappearance of a congressional aide from a seaside village on Virginia's Eastern Shore, where he had been vacationing. When unidentifiable remains had washed onshore the day before, Booth had swooped into Brennan's office at the Jeffersonian and torn her away from her ancient artifacts. She hadn't protested much; she had long since become used to Booth's sudden appearances and had learned to welcome unexpected changes of plans to her normally regimented day. Today had been very intense, too; she'd sent a lot of seemingly unrelated pieces of evidence back to the lab, along with the decimated remains found.

They had finished with recovery late in the day and had hastily packed up their equipment with an eye on the darkening sky. Now they were headed back to DC, but with darkness falling and the storm intensifying, it was beginning to look like they would have to spend the night at the first motel that they could find.

"I'd love to stop, but I haven't seen as much as a barn for miles now," Booth said with a worried frown.

"Let me see if I can find something around here with the GPS," Bones suggested, fiddling with the unit attached to the dashboard. After a minute of silence, Bones sighed in frustration.

"What?" Booth demanded.

"No satellite reception," she fumed.

"Of course there isn't," Booth groused, equally frustrated. He chuckled when he saw what she was doing next.

"Resorting to the low-tech alternative, I see?"

"According to this map, we should be close to the town of St. Charles. The next mileage post should give me a better assessment of how far we have to go."

"And how big a town is St. Charles?" Booth asked skeptically.

"Let's see," she mused, turning the map over to the demographic chart. "Population, St. Charles: 1890."

"Oh, this motel will be a real winner, then... if there even is one."

"The road seems to be washed out ahead... oh no!" Bones exclaimed as Booth wrestled with the wheel, stood on the brakes and brought the vehicle to a lurching stop just before they launched into the raging river that had taken the place of the bridge.

"Yeah, the road is definitely washed out," a dispirited Booth agreed. He slammed a fist against the dashboard. Bones, ignoring his outburst, was already opening the map again.

"We have to turn around. How far back was that little town with the guest house in the middle of it?"

"You mean the one we laughed at and said how glad we were to not have to spend the night in a place like that?"

"That would be the one." Booth muttered something under his breath.

"Well... let me see. It's about 40 miles. No, wait; I didn't add in this little portion of road here... about 44 miles." Bones continued to calmly study the map in spite of her partner's colorful contributions to the conversation.

"Booth, look... we could go back to this road right here and cut across to the highway there and get home that way. It is backtracking, but at least we wouldn't have to stay somewhere around here overnight."

Booth peered at the map on her lap. "That road is a light grey line," he said, pointing. "Gravel, or worse. It could be flooded out somewhere, too. I don't know, Bones."

"Would you rather go back to that bed and breakfast?"

"Good point. Okay; let's try your detour." Backing up, Booth made a K-turn and headed the other way. He tried to see ahead far enough to crawl along. Bones, who normally never paid attention to his driving, watched him anxiously. He glanced over at her, reflecting her worried expression. Although it didn't seem possible it could rain any harder, the intensity of the downpour increased to the point where Booth couldn't see anything at all through the windshield. Cursing, he rolled to a halt.

"What is this?" The wind was picking up now and even Booth's heavy SUV shook under its influence. After a moment of indecision, he began to inch forward again, figuring that moving even a little bit was better than staying in place. Brennan reached out and turned on the radio, fiddling with the tuner and trying to locate a news station. She found a weather forecast broadcasting from Washington, DC, and turned up the volume so they could hear it over the pounding of the rain on the roof. The static was so bad that Booth couldn't make out what the announcer was saying.

"What did he say?" He asked Bones.

"Nor'easter," she repeated. "Don't they track storms like this for days?" Bones frowned.

"I think Nor'easters can blow up in a hurry, Bones, from what I remember."

She grunted disapprovingly. "It's moving up the coast, with winds of..." she listened for a moment or two and then repeated the information she'd managed to make out.

"Winds of 50 miles per hour with higher gusts, and two to four inches of rain... more locally. Storm is expected to worsen throughout the night hours, winding down by mid-day tomorrow."

"Worsen? Worse than this?"

Right on cue, a huge tree just ahead of them blew wildly toward the road, tilted impossibly low and looked as if it was about to uproot itself. Without thinking, Booth stepped on the accelerator and jerked the wheel to avoid it. The vehicle went into a skid and squealed sideways across the road, the back wheels jack-knifing off the pavement with a whipping motion before Booth managed to regain control. He heard a dull thud beside him.

"Bones? Are you okay? Don't you have your seat belt on?" He reached for her with one hand while maintaining a grip on the wheel with the other. She was slumped against the passenger door rubbing her head and he couldn't see her face. He pulled off at a wide spot along the shoulder so he could give her his full attention.

"Ouch... yes, I am wearing a seat belt... ouch."

"Let me see," Booth said, gently pulling her hands away from her head and sliding her toward him. Somehow she had smacked her head against the side window so hard that an angry red lump was already rising. With a hand on one shoulder he inspected the rapidly forming bruise on her forehead. He hated it when she got hurt.

"It's okay," Bones protested. She remained still, though, allowing him to brush a stray lock of hair away from the injury.

"That's gonna swell," Booth said. "Sorry about that. I guess I overreacted."

"It's not your fault, Booth. Maybe we should just stay right here until the rain lets up some." She stopped and leaned back against the seat closing her eyes. It was obvious to Booth she was in pain.

"What if it doesn't let up? Nor-easters can last a long time. I don't want to wait around and get caught in another flood. I'm going to keep going, Bones. I think it's the best choice. I'll try keep the ride smooth from here on out. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes; go."

Pulling onto the highway he was true to his word and kept the car steady and at a slow rate of speed. Noticing that Bones was shivering now, he turned up the heat and defrost fan. She had never moved back from where he'd positioned her beside him, so it was natural to rest a hand on her thigh. The warmth of her knee under his palm seemed to keep him focused on getting them to safety.

Where Bones was involved, he often found himself as watchful as a hawk, constantly aware of the various dangers they faced in their investigations. She had teased him from time to time about his over-protectiveness; her coworkers had often commented on it too. But it didn't change a thing; Booth still faithfully watched over her on the job and off the job.

As tough as she was, there was something incredibly vulnerable about Temperance Brennan. Booth had sensed it from the day he'd met the brilliant scientist. It had taken him a while to figure it out, but he knew now that it was her inability to read people that concerned him. Although she wasn't a naturally trusting soul, he was afraid that one day she was going to walk into a fatal situation because she hadn't been able to interpret clear signs of danger. He shuddered, thinking about the lab where not long ago a crazy scientist had stabbed her in the arm with a scalpel. She'd just walked into the place alone, after hours, to retrieve records pertinent to their case, not considering that she might be putting herself into mortal danger. He'd barely made it there in time to save her.

He glanced over at her, his rambling thoughts causing him to need to assure himself that she was doing okay. In spite of the angry welt on the side of her forehead, she absorbed in the task she was doing.

"Look, Booth. At the next road you turn right." Bones was consulting the map again.

"Are you sure?" They were at the road in question so he turned, but he was dismayed to find that the road was little more than a path.

"Yeah, this is that grey line on the map that you said was probably dirt or gravel, but don't worry. We're only on it for a few miles before it connects to the main highway back toward the coast."

He inferred from that information that she'd given up hope of getting home tonight and was instead navigating him to that rundown bed and breakfast they'd passed earlier. The night seemed to close in on them as they made their way. The winds still whipped the trees on either side and the rain continued to make visibility almost nil, but on this lonely stretch of dirt road it seemed even worse, if that was possible. Bones, who usually took everything in stride, looked spooked, and as a result had shifted closer to his side, her eyes darting from the rainy windshield to the dark passenger window.

"Kinda creepy, isn't it?" Booth offered. "I've got a CD of the Beach Boys if you'd like. Might cheer us up." He pointed at the glove compartment.

"I'm not really in the mood," she said shakily.

"You're not afraid, are you?"

"Actually, yes—a little. We're out of satellite range for some reason, there is no cell coverage, and we have no idea if this road is flooded up ahead. And I don't like the dark," she added sheepishly.

Booth's face lit up mischievously. "You're afraid of the dark, Bones? So do you sleep with a night light?"

"Um, two in my bedroom, one in the bathroom, a few out in the hallway so I can see my way to the kitchen..."

He chuckled. "Whoa, Bones. I didn't think you were afraid of anything."

"I am brave in most circumstances, but I don't like dark places. I have actually met many people who share the same fear, Booth; it's not that odd."

"Odd? Did I say you were...odd?" Booth was clearly enjoying picking on her as he continued to navigate the muddy lane.

"Yes, you have said that several times to me," Bones pointed out with a pout.

He stopped smiling and managed to look contrite.

"I'm sorry, Bones. If I have said that to you in the past, I was just teasing you, and I didn't really mean it."

After taking a moment to study his expression and trying to gauge his sincerity, Bones relaxed. By now she had scooted over so close to him that she was nestled against his side, a situation Booth was enjoying more than he cared to admit even to himself. Whether it was the wildness of the storm or her fear of the dark, she was all but announcing that she felt safe with him. Her head settled softly onto his shoulder. He reminded himself to concentrate on driving.

"Hang on," Booth said tensely.

With both hands on the wheel he held the car steady while he braked hard. They slid to a muddy halt. Caught in the gleam of the bright headlights a swollen torrent that had once been a creek rushed across the road just in front of their car, blocking their route. The frothing, fast-moving water was not more than a foot from the end of the SUV. Booth shuddered at the close call.

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2: A Dark and Stormy Night

**Weathering the Storm**

_Author's Note: Disclaimer: I do not own Bones nor do I profit from any writing about the Bones characters. Just having fun! _

_**From Chapter 1:**_

_"Hang on," Booth said tensely. With both hands on the wheel he held the car steady while he braked hard. They slid to a muddy halt. Caught in the gleam of the bright headlights a swollen torrent that had once been a creek rushed across the road just in front of their car. Booth shuddered at the close call. _

**Chapter Two: A Dark and Stormy Night**

He fumbled for a flashlight in the glove compartment. Testing it and finding it still worked, he then turned to Brennan, who was clinging to the dashboard with white fingers staring at the rushing creek just in front of their car. Booth watched her eyes widen as she realized the significance of what she was seeing.

"Not again," she whispered. "What do we do?"

Her eyes were luminous with alarm. That overwhelming need to take care of her, that secret, irresistible feeling she would clock him for if she knew how often he acted on it, swept over him. He paused for a second, taking in her bloodless face and trembling hands.

"Hey… are you alright?"

Booth was still recovering from the fright himself, but he leaned over Bones to make sure she hadn't hurt herself again. Satisfied that she was fine, he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and ran his hand down her arm. Then he pulled his black overcoat up close to his chin and grabbed the door handle.

"Sit tight, Bones. I'm going to go see how far across it is."

He jumped out and walked around the hood in front of the car. Bones could see him standing in the pouring rain and leaning into the wind, pointing the flashlight across the flooded road. He walked a few steps in either direction, swinging the beam all around. Within a few minutes he was back beside her, out of breath and soaked to the skin. She leaned over the back of her seat and felt around on the floor behind them.

"I thought I saw a towel back here somewhere."

"Yeah, there is one back there somewhere," Booth agreed. "It's Parker's."

"Here," she retrieved a bright orange and yellow striped over-sized bath towel. Booth gratefully wiped off his face and scrubbed the excess water out of his hair.

"It's getting cold out there," Booth said. "I think that water is rising fast, too." He sat shivering, having wiped off as much rain water as he could but unable to adequately dry his drenched clothing. His teeth began to chatter.

"We are not h-having a g-good night," he gasped.

"Come here, Booth," Brennan offered, extending her arms in invitation. Booth borrowed into her warm embrace with a relieved groan. She rubbed his back vigorously while he hugged her against his body.

"Oh, you're really wet," she commented. "And cold." He held on greedily, afraid she might decide to release him. He was grateful that she didn't.

"If we went across right now, before it gets any higher, we could probably get through," he said, closing his eyes and soaking up the feel of her hands warming his back. "It doesn't look to be more than three feet across. There is a road under there—so it can't be all that deep, can it?"

"I don't know," she said cautiously. "It's inadvisable to proceed into flood waters of unknown depth."

He pulled away. "You're right," he conceded. "Okay, we'll turn around. Dammit."

With a frustrated jab at the accelerator, Booth backed the car up until he could safely execute a u-turn on the muddy road. Their spirits sank lower as they retraced their steps. Bones, noticing that Booth still looked cold, turned up the heater to full blast once more. The SUV bumped along, hitting huge puddles and pot holes that seemed to have formed since they'd passed by not half an hour earlier. The road was fast becoming impassable.

"How's our gas?" Bones asked. She was back beside him, hanging on his arm even as he drove. Gone was his intrepid partner, and in her place sat a frightened girl with a purple lump on the side of her head. He rarely, if ever, saw her so undone.

"About half. Hey, Bones; don't start worrying about everything. We'll figure this out. We'll get out of this, I promise."

Slowly Booth became aware that the road was looking less and less like dry ground and more like a muddy gutter awash with rainwater. And the water seemed to be getting deeper and faster. A jittery alarm went off in his head, making his stomach clench. He instinctively sensed imminent danger.

"Bones. Look for a side road, or a trail, anything wide enough for the car that goes uphill. This road is flash flooding."

After a few anxious moments of silent searching, she pointed to an overgrown trail leading through the trees off to the left.

"There, Booth."

The SUV barely fit through the underbrush on either side but at this point he didn't have much of a choice. Gunning the engine, he fought with the bucking steering wheel as the car skidded for traction up the incline. After a lot of violent maneuvering he managed to remove them to a point several feet above the flooding road. The trail didn't end there, but this appeared to be the highest point. Booth stopped to catch his breath and think. After a minute he reached out to Bones and grabbed her hand.

"This isn't good. It looks like we'll have to stay put for the rest of the night, at least. I need to turn off the car. We can't afford to burn up all our gas. It doesn't make sense to keep going in the dark through this storm and this is a good place to wait it out."

"I don't see an alternative," Bones agreed reluctantly. Her voice shook. "But it's around eight hours until the sun comes up. If the car engine is off, it will get cold in here."

"Yeah I know. I think I have an emergency blanket in the back somewhere. Hang on while I get these seats stowed away…"

Leaving the engine running for now, Booth wriggled into the back seat and worked on the latches on the seat backs. Soon he had them folded into the floor of the car, creating a flat area where they could lie down. Crawling further back, he rummaged around in one of the side pockets until he triumphantly yanked out a Mylar sheet.

"Here it is," he held it up. "Now bring back your coat, scarf and gloves because we're going to need every piece of clothing we've got with us."

Bones did as he asked and then climbed into the back. She positioned herself so the front passenger seat was her back rest. Booth tossed her the Mylar square.

"Unfold it while I turn off the car." Booth had left the heat turned on to full blast while he'd rearranged the seats in an effort to start out with the car as warm as possible.

"This is not a blanket," she pronounced. But she did as Booth said and opened the thin material up to its full size.

Although she had done everything to prepare for their night's stay in the back of the SUV, Bones cried out softly when Booth clicked off the ignition and plunged them into complete darkness. The only light was the green fluorescent glow of Booth's watch. The wind and rain sounded even more menacing in the black of the night.

"Don't be afraid, Bones." Booth slid over the front seat to join her in the back. He had to feel around but it only took him a second to find her in the dark.

"Sure," she said shakily, and not at all convincingly.

"Hey, why don't you tell me about those ancient bones I dragged you away from this morning? Who was the old guy?"

He could feel her trembling. Swinging his arm over her shoulders he pulled her securely against his body. They leaned against the backs of the front seats. Her head found its way onto his shoulder. She was breathing in fast gulps, revealing her terror to Booth without words. He couldn't help running a hand up and down her arm and leaning his chin on the top of her head. She smelled like rain and something flowery. In spite of their circumstances, Booth breathed deeply and smiled in the dark.

"I've been afraid of the dark since I was a toddler," she confessed, ignoring his kindly attempt to divert her attention. "I can remember my Mom checking under my bed and inside my closet every night before bed, with a flashlight. Dad would sing to me. But I still had nightmares almost every night. Later, when I was a teenager, I would get so frustrated with myself. I wanted so badly to outgrow my fear, the way most people eventually do. But I never have." She sounded embarrassed.

"Are you afraid right now?"

"Not as much as I thought I would be."

She snuggled closer and he welcomed her with a tighter embrace. It took them a few awkward moments to get the emergency blanket tucked tightly around them both, but in spite of its flimsy appearance, they immediately felt warmer as soon as it was in place.

"Not bad," Booth commented proudly. "It's not a feather comforter, but it's warm enough."

"It makes a weird crackling noise," Bones said. She wiggled her legs and then her arms to illustrate.

"You're warm enough, aren't you? Now, where were we? Tell me more about your dark-o-phobia."

She chuckled and then continued to talk. "When I went into the foster care system, my foster father locked me in a closet when I misbehaved. I tried so hard to be good, but I could never please him. He was determined to teach me a lesson, but I never figured out what the lesson was. I still have nightmares about that dark closet."

She shuddered. Rubbing her shoulders Booth bent and pressed a soft kiss on her temple. She stiffened and made a sharp sound.

"Is your head still sore?"

"Yeah. It still hurts."

"Sorry."

He surprised her by kissing her forehead again, this time with infinite care and gentleness. Something was happening between them, something she hadn't foreseen and wasn't quite sure what to do with. Ignorant of her shocked reaction, Booth kept talking just above a whisper. She closed her eyes. His voice—its timbre, its tone—was soothingly familiar. It occurred to her that just the sound of it was quickly diminishing the power of the darkness. His strong arms anchored her. Although she would never have chosen to be stuck in a situation like this, being here with Booth made it bearable.

"You had some rough times growing up. I'm sorry you had to go through that. Childhood should be happy and full of wonder."

"That's what you try to give Parker, isn't it?"

"I try. I don't ever want him to experience what I did." Booth shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't intended to say that. He dreaded the fact that Bones probably wouldn't let it slide. After all, here they were, stuck for the night in the back of his car in the middle of the woods. It wasn't like she had anything better to think about.

"What, Booth? You've never told me about your childhood. What experiences are you referring to?"

"Just—bad stuff. My Dad drank. And when I was twelve he left us—me and Jared."

"And Pops raised you after that; I remember. Booth, tell me about it. What happened with your Dad?"

"Things that no kid of mine will ever have to go through."

His head lifted from hers and she felt him tense up. The moment, the window of vulnerability, seemed to be closing up again. This always happened whenever she got too close to his dark places. Sadness washed over her.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me. Booth, if you ever want to talk about it some day, I'm here, you got it?"

He was silent for so long she began to drift off to sleep, comfortable in his arms, but she woke up with a start when he spoke again, the sound vibrating under her cheek.

"I was named after him. Seeley Booth. Seeley the Second," he spit out bitterly. "He thought I was his property to do with whatever he pleased. Jared is named after Pops. It's Pops' middle name. Jared was only two years younger than me, but it felt like ten. I was left in charge of him when Dad went on his drinking binges. And when he came home, drunk, mean…"

Lifting her face in a futile effort to see his, Bones felt tears burn hot behind her eyelids. To most of the world, Booth was a tough, fist-swinging FBI agent, but Bones knew how tender, how bruised, he was inside. In a way, she felt as protective of him as he was of her. For all his bravado, he was easily hurt, something it had taken Bones a while to learn. She had hurt his feelings on several occasions without being aware of what she was doing, and she still felt awful about each and every incident.

"… It was me that caught it. I was his punching bag."

"Oh, Booth. But you kept him from hitting Jared?"

"I sure tried. Didn't always succeed."

"When did Pops move in with you and Jared?"

"When I was in seventh grade. I was thirteen."

"Thirteen? I was in ninth grade when I was thirteen…" Bones mused, doing the math. "I skipped the second grade, though."

"Well, I flunked the fifth grade. That was the year things got really bad at home. You know, at the time, and for a long time afterward, I thought I flunked because I was stupid. Now I know I was unable to concentrate in school before my Dad left. I got all A's and B's when Pops was my guardian."

Her arms instinctively tightened around him. "You weren't stupid. You were traumatized. You and I have seen it in some of the street kids we've encountered in our investigations. I guess I was traumatized those years I was in foster care, too, but I dealt with it differently—I just worked harder in school. Learning was my escape."

"Thanks, Bones," he said softly.

"For what?" She yawned. The long day of recovering remains and the storm afterward had taken their toll on Bones. She was exhausted.

"For listening, I guess. I haven't talked about this with anyone before; not really. Hey, you look awful. You should get some sleep."

"Gee, thanks, Booth. You look awful too. I know you can't really see me, anyway."

Booth chuckled. Together they slid down and made themselves as comfortable as they could manage on the floor of the car. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this close to her. Sure, there had been a few hugs. When he'd rescued her from the man at the clinic last month, he'd held her until the EMT's had arrived. But never like this. He'd dreamed about holding her hundreds of times, but his conviction that she didn't feel the same way about him kept him from acting on it. He wondered now how she felt about him. She certainly seemed to feel something for him. He couldn't imagine her cuddling like this with Hodgins or Wendell. The very thought made him jealous and he gathered her even closer. She responded with a half-hearted moan; she was already mostly asleep.

Sleep overtook them both quickly, in spite of the cold, the hard floor beneath them and the sound of rain pounding on the roof. Her head was cushioned on Booth's amply proportioned shoulder, his head on her hand; they were sandwiched together in a silver Mylar cocoon. Booth's last thought before he drifted away was how surprisingly content he was.

Sometime during the night, Booth awoke and realized that, other than the even sound of Bones' breathing, it was silent. The sound of pounding rain and howling wind was gone. Raising his head just far enough to see out the windows, he was amazed to see white flakes swirling furiously against the dark backdrop of the night. His nose was cold and so were his feet, which, still encased in his mud-encrusted shoes, had gotten soaked when he'd gotten out to check on the creek and were now two blocks of ice.

It didn't take Booth long to realize he wanted his feet warm in the worst way. Sitting up, he inadvertently dislodged Bones in his haste to pull off his wet shoes and socks. Ignoring her sleepy protests for the moment, he grabbed Parker's towel and swathed his feet.

"Ah," he breathed.

"What?"

"My feet. My feet were freezing."

"My feet are freezing, too," Bones complained.

Booth reached down, pulled off her sneakers and grabbed one sock-clad foot. It was indeed freezing.

"Here, we can share," he conceded generously. Opening up the big fluffy towel, he pulled her feet in next to his and re-wrapped it so their feet were together. Bones squeaked.

"Your feet are way colder than mine."

"Hey, you're the one who complained about her feet being cold. I'm just trying to help."

"Booth, look," Bones said, laughing. She pointed at the orange and yellow bundle at the end of their legs. "I have to admit, my feet are already getting warmer. But… that looks ridiculous."

A look of awareness sharpened on her face and she looked around.

"I can see. It's not as dark."

"It's snowing now. It's always a little brighter when it's snowing, even at night."

"It's snowing?" Alarmed, she fastened her gaze on the window. "What are we going to do now?"

_To be continued… _

_THANKS to all you reviewers who made my day by letting me know you are reading. You are the best! Reviews are a writer's dessert. I love any and all comments/suggestions.  
_


	3. Chapter 3: White Out

_A/N: Don't own or profit from Bones. But I like to play with them._

**Weathering the Storm**

_From Chapter 2: "It's snowing?" Alarmed, she fastened her gaze on the window. "What are we going to do now?" _

**Chapter 3: White Out**

"We're going to wait for daylight, first. Come on, Bones; let's get some more sleep. There's nothing we can do right now. And I have a feeling we're going to need our strength tomorrow." He tugged the silver sheet up close around them and guided her head back onto his shoulder. She yawned and nestled into his arms. Warm and content, he drifted off immediately.

_Booth was dreaming about a mission from his combat days. They were pinned down in a cave in mountainous terrain, and he and his unit were taking turns sleeping on the hard rock floor of the cave. It was cold, very cold, but his feet were warm. The thought that his boots were really doing the job crossed his mind as he took his turn on watch. _

_One of his buddies was crying out in his sleep. Booth's subconscious mind was awake enough to note the irony of Booth's buddy having a nightmare during Booth's dream. Walking over to wake up the frightened soldier Booth was confused when his voice sounded more like that of a hysterical woman. Booth remembered him having a deep voice; who knew he cried like a girl in his sleep? _

_Wait a minute. I'm dreaming, I'm cold, it's dark, and I hear a woman crying…_

"Bones! Hey, don't cry; you're okay." Booth was suddenly awake and in the back of his SUV, wrestling with an unconscious woman obviously in the throes of her own nightmare. Brennan had pulled the Mylar blanket off them both and her arms and legs flailed out when Booth tried to restrain her.

"Whoa, watch it, Bones. You're dreaming. Come on, wake up. Temperance!"

Calling her name did it. Her body relaxed and the hysterical cries subsided to silent sobs. Knowing it was over, Booth hauled her into a firm hold and rocked her like he would Parker. She calmed down by degrees. When she was finally quiet, he reached for the blanket and pulled it around them once again. Then he reached down and rearranged the towel so their feet stayed warm.

"That was some dream," Booth commented. She turned into his chest as he rubbed her back and arms.

"Are you okay now?"

"I was back in the car with Hodgins," she finally managed to whisper. "It was cold, and dark, and I couldn't breathe."

And he'd come within a few seconds of losing her forever. The events of that terrifying day were suddenly playing through his mind in vivid pictures. It had been the worst pain he'd ever felt. Booth bowed his head over hers and pressed his face into her hair. He couldn't help wondering how hard it must be for her to wake up from that particular nightmare to find herself in the back of a cold, dark, car, trapped by a storm. As if to confirm his suspicion, a shudder ran through her body; he felt her arms steal under his coat and tighten around his back.

"It was just a dream," he reassured her, dropping a kiss into her hair. "We're okay, Bones."

"I don't like this, Booth," she confessed shakily. "I want to get out of here."

"I know. We will. Don't be afraid. We're just waiting for daylight. The car's got plenty of gas. In a few hours we'll just drive on out of here, okay? Everything will turn out great."

"Okay," she said, but she sounded unconvinced. Raising her face to his, she stared at him, her expression a mixture of need and affection. Her eyes glowed in the darkness. He leaned in and rested his forehead on hers. This was no longer two partners working a case together. He had felt a lot more than friendship for her for some time now, but this was the first time he'd seen those feelings reflected in Brennan's eyes.

"Although I would prefer to not be trapped in a car during a storm, I have to admit being here with you makes it better. A lot better."

"I wouldn't mind being trapped with you any time," Booth said sweetly.

Bones grinned, touched by his admission. Then her smile disappeared and her expression grew serious. Booth's heart did a nervous flip; something was changing and suddenly every nerve in his body went on alert. She was looking at his mouth and leaning in closer.

He'd decided a while ago when it had become clear to him that she didn't appear to return his feelings that he would wait for her to make the first move. He knew her well enough to know that any advance from him would be likely to scare her away. But here, in the cold and dark, far from their usual routine, he had renewed hope.

His eyes slowly closed and he savored the unbearable sweetness of the moment when her mouth met his in a soft caress. It was finally happening. He could hardly believe it. Not daring to move at first, he let her kiss him the way she wanted to, until he couldn't help himself and with a twist of his lips he took control. She met him eagerly, and for a while the world around them faded away. When she finally eased back, he tried not to feel disappointed, but instead pulled her securely against him.

"Can you sleep now?" He whispered, seeing her eyes were already closed.

"Yes."

* * * * *

It seemed like only a few moments had passed when Booth sat up, wide awake, with the dull grey light of a stormy day lighting up the interior of the SUV. He felt somewhat rested, though, so he figured they must have gone back to sleep for several hours. Looking outside, he saw snow still falling, but not so fast or thick as it had been when they had woken during the night. A blanket of white covered the car and the trail around them. The front windshield, being angled more than the side windows, wore a thick mantle of snow.

Turning to his partner, he was charmed to find her still asleep, curled in a ball with her head still cradled against his chest. Their feet were bound together in Parker's towel. Wiggling his toes, he was glad to find them warm and in working order. The next pleasant sensation to register on his brain was Brennan's feet under his. Although the fact that they were still in a potentially dangerous situation weighed heavily on his mind, he wasn't about to let that stop him from thoroughly enjoying this moment.

He studied her face. He loved every minute they spent together, even when she made him so mad or frustrated he could barely see straight. He loved the way she said whatever she was thinking, even when it was an uncomfortable truth. She was without guile, a true scientist who applied the scientific method to every situation. He couldn't think of anyone with as much integrity. He loved her.

She stirred in her sleep. Now that it was light—or as light as it would be until this storm rolled out—Booth could see dark circles under her eyes and stress lines around her mouth. The bruise on her forehead didn't look too bad, still bluish-purple and swollen but no worse, but the other signs told him that she needed more sleep. He paused, having been about to wake her, and changed his mind.

Climbing quietly into the front seat, he turned the key in the ignition and the engine sputtered to life. The heat would take a few minutes to kick in, so he left it running while he got out as quietly as he could manage and took a look around.

The trail they were on was definitely not made for vehicular traffic, but it continued into the brush as far as he could see. Walking back to evaluate the gravel road below, he was glad to find that the snow wasn't too deep. Four, maybe five inches, he estimated. He peered down the slope they'd ascended so urgently last night during the storm. The road below was no longer flooded, at least not obviously so, but instead looked like a ribbon of white cutting a swath through the forest in either direction.

"Booth, what are you doing?"

Bones' sleepy voice made him turn around. She was standing beside the passenger door, her arms wrapped around herself, her hair still fuzzy from sleeping on his shoulder in the back of the SUV. He walked up and got in the driver's side. She climbed in too and they both put their cold hands over the now warm vents.

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"I'm not tired any more." She looked exhausted.

"I think we can try the road below again," he said. "It doesn't seem to be flooded anymore. Of course, now it's full of snow, but this car has four-wheel drive."

"Good. I'm ready to get out of here."

"You are? I was kind of enjoying being stuck here. With you." Booth grinned.

"Well, now that I think about it, this situation has had some positive aspects to it."

"Really?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "Very positive, actually."

"Cool. Okay, let's get this show on the road."

They fastened their seat belts and Booth slowly backed down the trail to where it joined the road below. He slid in the snow the last few feet and the SUV bounced backwards onto the road.

"Let's hope that's the biggest thrill we have for the rest of the ride," Booth said.

Shifting into first, he eased along until they were moving tentatively along, back toward the main road that last night had been separated from them by a raging torrent. Within a few minutes, they reached the point where they'd turned around. There was still a trickle of water running through the snow in the place where the flood waters had flowed last night, but the stream was so diminished that they knew it would be easy to cross. Booth grinned and easily drove through to the other side.

"Good. Now it's only about a half mile and we should hook into the main coastal highway." Bones had the map out again. Just then the GPS kicked in and told them in a sexy alto voice to turn in a half mile.

"Now she decides to help out," Booth groused. Bones seemed to have lost faith in the GPS for she was still studying the map.

"There's a town about fifteen miles down the main highway. Maybe we can find some breakfast there."

"Yeah, I'm starving too. Whoa." They hit a snowdrift and Booth only just managed to plow through.

"Is the snow deeper here, or is that just my imagination?" Bones wondered out loud.

"I think the snow blew around and some of these drifts are pretty high. Don't worry; old Betsy here can handle it."

"Last time you called your car by name, you called her "Maude"," Bones pointed out drily.

"Did I really?" Booth grinned mischievously. "Hey, what do you know? Finally, here's the main highway. Wow."

He paused the car at the edge of the paved road, but they couldn't see any pavement. The road and the surrounding countryside all looked the same—a pristine, uniform blanket of white with higher drifts here and there. No plows had been through this stretch of highway.

"Where's the edge of the road?" Bones asked.

"I think we have to guess," Booth returned. He shifted and spun out of the gravel road onto the snow-covered highway. In spite of the SUV's sturdy wheels and capable four-wheel drive, they skidded and slithered their way along. Bones kept an eye on the GPS, which was thankfully online now, and announced each mile as it rolled away.

"We've gone four miles."

"Bones, you don't have to tell me every…. Whoa!"

The car slid off into the ditch, which thankfully was quite shallow at this spot, and Booth manhandled it back onto the berm with a shower of snow in their wake.

"Awesome," Booth crowed.

"Booth, look!" Bones pointed out the window after a few more treacherous miles. "It's starting to snow again. These winter storms often have several bands of precipitation before they blow out to sea."

"You mean it's not over yet?"

"Possibly not. In fact, it seems to be picking up in intensity. We only have about six miles to go, however." She was consulting the GPS again.

"Surely we can drive in this for six miles," Booth muttered to himself, concentrating. The snow was really coming down now, and the wind had made an appearance again. Between the white curtain falling from the grey sky and the white landscape, it was becoming hard to guess where the road was. Booth drove slower and slower until he pulled up and stopped. In the short time since Bones' remark, the snow had closed in and obscured everything—white out. They couldn't tell where the land ended and the sky began. There was nothing to do but wait.

"We had a storm like this once in Philly when I was a kid. I stood at the window and watched the tops of the buildings across the street disappear into a wall of white. Jared and I wanted to go outside in the worst way, but Pops wouldn't let us. He was afraid we'd disappear forever."

"My favorite snow was just before Christmas the year I was six. It snowed so much that the snow line was halfway up our door—taller than me. I wanted to dig a tunnel through it. I wasn't allowed to, either," she said with a chuckle.

"I wonder if it was the same snowstorm," Booth mused, his eyes glowing. "Could have been, you know."

"In that case, I choose to believe it was," Bones offered. She smiled warmly.

"You know, when you're not irritating the hell out of me you can be quite charming," he teased.

"Thank you. Was that a compliment?"

"You bet."

"Look—I can see the trees across the road now. I think this band of snow is passing over. Nor'easters have tight gradients of pressure. That's why the winds are so strong and the precipitation tends to come in waves."

"So you are a weather expert too?"

"I just like meteorology, that's all. I did my high school science fair project on tornadoes."

"Why am I not surprised? Wait—tornadoes? Why not bones?"

"I didn't develop an interest in anatomy and forensics until college."

"Was it a class you took, then?"

She hesitated before answering. "No. Actually, a fellow student in one of my classes was, ah, murdered. A body was found and identified on circumstantial evidence. Later, though, it turned out to not be his remains after all. By the time his body was found and properly identified, the killer's trail had grown stone cold. I wanted to be able to prevent such a tragedy from happening to someone else."

"Was he a good friend?" Booth asked.

"Yes," she said. Something about the way she tilted her head away and looked down at her feet tipped Booth off.

"You were more than friends?"

"Yes," she whispered. This time he was sure he heard it: a long-forgotten pain coming back to life behind her response.

"I'm sorry, Bones. I never thought… I just assumed you loved science and you know… geeky stuff. I had no idea. Like I said—I'm sorry."

"It's history, Booth. I haven't thought about Jeff in years. But his death was the catalyst that got me involved in the study of forensic anthropology. And besides, I really do love science and "geeky" stuff, as you call it. Snow's almost stopped again."

Booth watched her out of the corner of his eye. He knew her better than she knew herself, he was sure of it. In spite of her calm denial, he could see that his casual question had awakened an old wound that still hurt a lot. He wondered if her reluctance to allow herself to love one man had any connection to this long-ago tragedy.

Booth pulled out and eased on the accelerator again, plowing through the freshly fallen snow still doing his best to stay on the hidden roadway. It was mid-morning already and he was hungry and thirsty and needed coffee in the worst way. He knew Bones was probably feeling the same.

"How far to the town now?"

"Five miles."

"So the last mile took us…"

"Fifteen minutes," Bones confirmed grimly.

"Geesh."

"Don't worry, Booth. A wise man told me everything will turn out fine."

_To be continued… _


	4. Chapter 4: In Forest City

**Weathering the Storm**

**Chapter 4: In Forest City**

Their journey along the snow-packed highway in the middle of nowhere was slow and treacherous. When they finally passed a sign announcing the "Forest City Town Limits" Booth was as tired as if it was midnight instead of before noon. He pulled into the parking lot of a Shell Station with a tiny diner attached to it. Pulling up to the pump, he turned to Bones. She was staring longingly at the diner.

"Go on in while I fill up the tank. I want a humongous, extra-strong, burning-hot cup of coffee. Got it?"

"So do I."

The diner had one employee, a dark-haired lady with large green eyes, a no-nonsense expression, a crisp, blue apron and work-reddened hands. With strict efficiency she took their order, ran back into the kitchen, cooked it, brought them coffee and slapped the bill on their table all within fifteen minutes. Booth and Bones ate like refugees. She watched them from the counter, amazed.

"Where did you two come from? Nothing's moving in or out of town. There's a big wreck blocking the road north of here. The sheriff was in earlier telling me all about it."

"North of here? You mean the road to DC is blocked?"

"Looks that way. Are you two from DC then?" Her face was alight with curiosity. "You must have come in yesterday. Ain't nobody been through on the road since late last night when that big pile-up happened. Sheriff closed the highway in both directions."

"We were heading in from the coast and we got stuck in the storm last night. We had to spend the night in the car."

"You poor things. No wonder you're both eating like you're starving to death. How about some pancakes on the house?"

"Yes," Booth exclaimed at the same moment as Bones said, "No, thank you." The cook ignored her and turned to Booth.

"Pancakes it is, honey." She disappeared into the kitchen. Bones pushed back from the table and gave him a disbelieving look.

"Pancakes? How can you eat anything else?"

"There's always room for pancakes." Booth grinned like a little boy. Bones couldn't hold back a giggle. Booth sat back and sighed loudly. He didn't appear to have room for pancakes, but Bones was confident he would manage to pack them in. When they'd first sat down, they'd both been ravenous, after all. She sipped on her mug of coffee and closed her eyes, thinking through their situation.

"If the road is blocked, we're still stuck here, Booth," she said. "We need to ask that Sheriff how long it will be before the road opens. In the meantime, I wonder if there's a way I can connect to the internet and talk to Cam. They must be wondering what happened to us by now. I just checked my cell phone and I don't have reception here, either. How can a town this size not have cell coverage?"

"Here's your pancakes," the cook announced. She smiled at him, the first smile they'd seen from her since sitting down at the table. Booth grinned back, his brown eyes dancing. Bones resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Women of all ages had the hots for her handsome FBI partner. What she found most annoying was how much he enjoyed it.

"Ma'am—"

"Olivia," she corrected him.

"Olivia, then—I'm Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI. My partner here, Dr. Temperance Brennan, and I need access to the internet. And we were wondering where we can find good cell phone reception; we can't seem to call out from here. Can you help us out?"

She thought for a moment, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He made sure to smile attentively.

"Cell phone reception sort of comes and goes here in the diner. It's much better at the north end of town. As far as internet… we have wifi here." Her voice dropped to just above a whisper.

"I'm not really supposed to give out the code, but, you being FBI and all… here." She scribbled down a combination of numbers and letters on a table napkin. "Stay as long as you need to, and just holler if you need more coffee or anything."

"That's great. Thanks, Olivia—I owe you," he said in his official "I am irresistible" voice.

After Olivia returned to the kitchen, Bones glared at Booth.

"What?"

"You were flirting. She's old enough to be your mother."

"I was not flirting, and she is not that much older than me. Besides, she's a good-looking lady." Booth waited for her to take the bait.

"You're attracted to her?" Bones hissed.

Booth chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "You're jealous."

It took her a minute, but she flushed when she realized he was teasing her just so he could enjoy her reaction.

"You want me to be jealous," Bones pointed out. "Admit it."

"You are jealous. I'll get your laptop out of the car."

"I am not."

He had already jumped up and was gone, still laughing under his breath. He didn't know why he enjoyed flustering her, but he really did.

The link with the Jeffersonian took a few minutes to set up, but eventually they made contact and Cam's face was displayed on the screen. While Booth sipped his coffee he listened to Bones give her an update. They were both surprised to hear that the remains they'd sent back by special courier the morning before had not yet arrived. Cam was concerned, too.

"The Justice Department is breathing down my neck to get this case solved," Cam said. "I can't reach the courier responsible for transporting the remains, and this is the first I've heard from you two, as well. That storm must have been bad down there."

"It was, but it's over now. We just heard there's a multi-vehicle accident blocking the highway out of here, so it looks like we're stuck here for the time being. I am sending you the field notes from my examination of the remains right now." Bones hit the "send files" button.

"Got it and I'm opening the file. Uh huh," she murmured. "This looks great, Dr. Brennan. We'll get started on analyzing your report right away. Let me see," she continued, still reading the report she had just received. "Brennan, is this correct? If it is, these remains can't be the congressional aide."

"Well of course it's correct," Bones said haughtily. "And I concur: we haven't found the congressional aide yet. This person was female, twenty-something and about five-two or five-three."

"This case isn't going to be easy, is it," Cam said with a sigh. "I'll let you know when the remains arrive, but I want you two to stay there for the time being in case I need you to go back down to the coast. My contact at Justice insists that their man disappeared at that same seaside resort, where the remains washed ashore, right after he reported several anonymous telephone threats. In the meantime we'll work over the internet. I'll get Angela to work on a facial reconstruction as soon as the remains arrive. Maybe the identity of this deceased woman will help us find our missing political aide. Can you call the resort, Booth? Ask some questions. Find out if a woman between the ages of 25 and 35 has been reported missing in the area."

Brennan terminated the link and looked at Booth. "I think we need to have a talk with the Sheriff."

"Why?" Booth asked.

"It's a long shot, but I have a gut feeling why those remains never made it back to the Jeffersonian."

Booth was astounded. "You, Bones? You have a gut feeling? Am I in a parallel universe or something?"

"It's not a big deal, Booth. Just something I learned from you over the years."

Booth grinned, pleased that she'd actually admitted to it.

"Come on, let's go visit the police station at the north end of town," he said, gulping down the last of his coffee and throwing on his coat.

The drive from the diner to the police station was worlds apart from their earlier morning trek. Full of hot coffee and good food, driving on roads that had finally been plowed, having made contact with the Jeffersonian, it was almost as if the last twenty-four hours hadn't happened.

Almost, but not quite. On the way through town, Booth caught Brennan looking at him when she thought he was focused on the driving, and when they got to the Sheriff's office she didn't get out of the SUV right away.

"Aren't you coming in?" Booth had opened the door and had one foot hanging out when he realized she hadn't jumped out before him as was her usual practice. When she didn't answer him right away, he moved back into his seat and shut the door.

"What's up, Bones?"

"Nothing, it's just that…" she trailed off and looked at him, her eyes reflecting uncertainty.

"What? Talk to me," he urged gently. "You're not mad about me flirting with that waitress, are you? No, you're not like that. So what's wrong? I can tell something's bothering—"

"Booth, I'm not mad, and nothing's wrong. I was just thinking about… you know, about last night and yesterday during the storm, and… well, I don't want to just pretend like nothing happened."

"Hey, I don't want to, either. Does that what it seem like I'm doing?"

"No, Booth, I'm not accusing you of anything. It's me. I know my tendency is to ignore anything to do with… feelings..."

She was right on that account, Booth thought. She was so good at ignoring her feelings that she couldn't even talk about them. But she was trying, and that was huge. He encouraged her efforts by reaching across the seat and catching her hand. It was cold. As soon as his palm wrapped around her fingers she clung to him with an iron grip.

"I'm worried this thing between us is going to affect our working relationship. We work really well together. I don't want to mess that up. On the other hand, I don't want to go back, either. I don't really know how to handle this." She fell silent. Her grip on his hand was almost painful. Booth glanced over at the door to the Sheriff's office, and then back at her.

"Let's have this conversation tonight, okay? I agree that we need to talk. But I don't want to have this conversation in five minutes in the parking lot of a police station and I don't think you want that, either. So… tonight, Bones?"

"Okay. Sure."

"Are you sure?"

She pulled her hand away. He could almost see the walls going up. "Let's go talk to the Sheriff," Bones said stiffly.

Booth sighed and nodded.

The police station was almost as understaffed as the diner. It appeared that the storm had kept many people home from their jobs. The front desk was empty, but a light was on in the first office on the left side of the hall and the door was ajar. Booth knocked briskly on the door frame.

"Can I help you?" A big man with blond hair who looked to be in his mid-thirties sat behind a desk with a name plank that read "Sheriff G. Drummond." He turned from his computer screen as they walked into his office.

"Hi, Sheriff. I'm Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI and this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan. We're working on a time-sensitive murder investigation and we need to get back to Washington, D.C., as soon as possible. Any way you can help us with that?"

"Glenn Drummond—nice to meet you, Agent Booth; Dr. Brennan. Have a seat. It will be a few hours at least before the road north of town is re-opened. We had a 12 car pile-up late night during the height of the storm. A commercial van skidded out of control and well, you can imagine the rest what with the icy conditions we've experienced. There are some back roads around the mess, but I imagine they are in pretty bad shape at the moment. The good news is this whole system has blown out to sea and we should be plowed out by the end of the day."

"Sheriff, the commercial van wasn't a Capitol Couriers Van by any chance?" Brennan asked.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Well, yes, ma'am. It was."

Booth whistled. "Sheriff, we need to get to that van right away. I'm almost positive it is the same van carrying evidence that is crucial to our investigation."

"The highway patrol removed the crates from the back. I seem to remember one or two of them broke open and spilled out some pretty interesting contents."

"Oh no," Brennan exclaimed, paling. "The remains may have been compromised."

"I'll take you there myself," Sheriff Drummond offered, jumping up and grabbing his coat and hat.

The site of the wreck was a twenty minute drive to the north. The state of the highway hadn't improved much, although a single lane had been plowed to the wreck. When they arrived, emergency vehicles were crawling all over the scene. Booth jumped out when he saw the Capitol Courier van on its side in the ditch, Brennan hot on his heels. The Sheriff ran after them and pointed.

"Over there—that's where we left the crates."

A group of police officers were pawing through the broken crates. Brennan trotted over to them and began calling out stern instructions. Booth turned to the sheriff with a proud smile.

"She'll take care of things," he predicted.

Booth's cell phone rang in his pocket. It had been so long since he'd received a call that it startled him.

"Booth."

"Booth, it's Cam. We're still waiting for the remains to arrive by courier, but we have made contact with the resort and found out that the missing aide didn't check into the resort alone. He had a woman with him. She was registered as his wife, under the name "Mrs. Graham". Angela did some more checking and found out that Richard Graham is not married."

"So, in other words, we still have no idea who the mystery woman is."

"That is correct."

"Well, Cam, I know where the remains are. There was a huge accident on the highway and our Courier Van was right in the middle of it. The crates containing the evidence were apparently thrown from the back of the truck and several broke open. We're at the site of the crash. Bones is assessing the extent of the damage right now."

"I'm glad I'm not there, then," Cam joked. "I bet she's blowing her top."

"You could say that," Booth agreed. "Hey, I'll give you a call as soon as I have more news. Bye."

Booth terminated the call in a hurry. He could see from here that Bones was not happy with what she was finding among the broken crates. Breaking into a jog, he went to see what he could do to calm her down.

"Okay, Angela, here's another view of the anterior portion of the cranium," Bones announced loudly over the video connection in their hotel room. She'd been sending measurements and pictures back to the Jeffersonian for hours now. Booth was glad to see her in a much more relaxed state now that she had collected and analyzed most of the victim's remains. Because of exposure to waves and surf, most of the flesh was already gone. What remained had been frozen and thus preserved while in transit, lucky for Dr. Saroyan, who was on the other end of the video conference with Angela, giving directions to Brennan as to what information she needed.

"Angela, do you have enough to try a reconstruction?" Brennan asked. She put down her tape measure and probe and moved the skull to the side of the nightstand. It was almost midnight, and she was visibly drooping. Her hands were encased in latex gloves, so she tried to wipe a trickle of sweat from her face with her forearm. Booth stepped up next to her with a dry washcloth and carefully wiped her forehead, taking care not to press on the bruised area.

"Awww," Cam and Angela cooed from the screen.

"Dammit," Booth muttered. He'd forgotten they weren't exactly in private. Now he'd never hear the end of it from the two romantics of the office.

It felt weird to Booth how, over the past year or so, Cam had swung from being interested in him for herself to being a whole-hearted supporter of his unrequited love for Brennan. His very male ego wasn't sure how to handle that. And he wasn't quite ready to reveal the changes that were taking place between Bones and him. It still felt tentative, insubstantial; he had an irrational fear that if he tried to put it into words the whole thing might disappear like mist in the sun.

"Booth, that was so sweet," Angela sighed. Cam was smiling mischievously. Booth scowled. Brennan ignored all of them and continued to examine the remains, oblivious.

"There's a possible puncture mark on the sternum that could be cause of death. Ask Wendell to take a look at the images I am sending now and have him send me his findings first thing in the morning. I think we've done all we can for tonight."

"Okay, Dr. Brennan. We'll talk in the morning. Good job, as usual."

"Good night, Cam. Good night, Angela."

"Stay warm, you two," Angela sang out suggestively.

"We will," Bones said with a bright grin before quickly terminating the link, but not before she heard cries of surprise at her unexpected retort. Booth, leaning against the wall next to the bed, crossed his arms and stared at Bones.

"We will?" he repeated hopefully.

"Well, after last night I've decided you're pretty talented at keeping me warm."

"So," he quickly removed his outer shirt and collapsed on one side of the bed, "what are you waiting for?"

Her smile faded as she climbed onto the bed next to his sprawled form and sat with her back against the headboard.

"First... you said we could talk."

_To be continued… _


	5. Chapter 5: The Talk

**Weathering the Storm**

_Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in posting. This chapter had to be rewritten a couple times! Whew… anyway, here it is… finally finished._

**Chapter 5: The Talk**

Booth looked at her with an open, unguarded expression. He was tired, but he'd stay up all night if that's what she needed. But she looked like she badly needed rest. The hotel, actually a bed and breakfast on the main street of Forest City, had been almost completely booked. They'd been lucky to find one of its five rooms unoccupied; several other travelers had also found themselves stranded by the dangerous storm. It was a large room, comfortable and tastefully decorated, it's most valuable asset being a large desk they'd been using all night working the case with the squints via internet.

"Are you sure you're not too tired, Bones? You've had a tough day." They were sitting side by side on the bed, propped up against the headboard, both in T-shirts and sweats.

"I am tired. But I don't think I'll get any sleep without talking to you first."

She twisted a corner of the bedspread around her finger. Silently, Booth scooted up so he was sitting close to her. Her sock-covered feet were tucked up under her and she had kept her jacket on over her thin T-shirt. Now she was pulling it around her body and shivering. Whether she was cold or nervous wasn't clear. It was kind of cold in this room, Booth realized. He wanted to put an arm around her to warm her up, but he wasn't quite sure where they stood. That would depend on what she needed to talk about. After a moment's deliberation, he reached for her hand and played with her fingers. He was relieved when she didn't pull back like she would have only a few days ago.

"You were going to tell me why you're concerned about the change in our relationship," he prompted. "I gotta tell you, Bones, I think our relationship is about as close as any I've ever had, and it has been that way for a long time. I don't think kissing you changed that. It was a natural expression of how we already feel about each other." His thumb continued to rub gently around her palm.

"But it did change how we see each other."

"Not for me."

She was silent at that sweet admission. He sounded so matter-of-fact, so sure of his feelings. Turning to face him, she stared at him without speaking until he began to wonder if something was wrong. Booth frowned and a little pucker formed between his eyes. But as soon as she saw him start to worry, she hastened to explain her thoughts.

"Being your partner is something I can count on. When we have problems working together, we push through them. I'm aware that I have a tendency to sometimes make tactless comments. But because we're partners, even when you get mad at me I can still get up the next day and go to work and know you and I will be fine. We figure it out. We do this because we know we're a good team. We're a great team, and what we do is important. But that's at work."

"It's not all work," Booth said. "We're a good team because we're good together. You understand me, and most of the time, I understand you, too. We get each other. I'm not sure how or why, but we do. You know it's true."

"Yes, it is true," she hedged.

"So what's wrong?"

"Booth, every personal relationship I've had has run its course and ended. I don't do well at relationships. I think it might be a mistake to cross that line with you. I don't want to lose you."

Is that really what you want?"

Brennan was silent, but her eyes filled with pain and longing.

"You want to know what I think? I think you want to avoid being hurt by not allowing yourself to love anyone." He maintained his hold on her hand. To his relief she didn't pull away.

"But there are people I love, Booth. I don't hold myself back from loving Russ, or my Dad."

"You did, at one time. Are you sure you're not still holding something back, just to make sure they can never hurt you again?"

"No, I'm not. Well… I'm not sure," she admitted, shaken. She pulled her jacket closer as if she could pull into her shell. "I guess I try not to think about it. They are back in my life and for that I'm grateful."

"I seem to remember you were furious with both of them for a while, back when you first found them again. You didn't even want to talk to them. All that anger means you must have felt hurt, right? You haven't dealt with that hurt, Bones."

"I've gotten past it."

"You've buried it."

"I don't know what it means to deal with it. I assume you mean psychologically? I've never understood what good it does to express anger and hurt over something that happened in the past."

Booth knew he'd hit a nerve. Brennan jumped up and began pacing, her sock-covered feet shuffling across the tile floor. He swung his feet to the floor and watched. How very hurt she had been was abundantly evident in her expression and his heart swelled with tenderness for her. He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and hold her tight, to tell her everything was going to be fine, that he would never allow her to be hurt again. But something told him to wait. She needed to deal with this on her own terms. Booth clenched his fists and willed himself to sit still. Waiting wasn't one of his strong points. She stopped and looked at him.

"What do I do, Booth?" She asked softly, plaintively. Tears were trying to spill over her cheeks but she was holding them back with mighty effort. He got up, walked over to where she stood and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Start with your father," he said. "And please… come back to bed. It's cold."

Turning her by the shoulders, he guided her back to the bed and made her sit down again. She was so tired she was unsteady on her feet and Booth was growing concerned that she was pushing herself too hard. He was beginning to wonder if maybe he shouldn't have kissed her in the car the night before. That kiss had been amazing, wonderful; but she'd been acting uptight ever since. But wait; she'd kissed him first, right?

"My father? My father was very involved with Russ and me. He inspired my love of science. And in spite of everything esle he's done, all the con-man stuff, it's still his first love. You know how Dad is."

"Yeah, Parker loves his science enrichment class with your Dad. He's really enthusiastic and it's catching." Bones looked up and smiled at that. Although she never talked about it, she was proud of her Dad and Booth saw it shining on her face.

"Dad wasn't home in the evenings a lot as I got older, though. Looking back, I suspect those were the years he was involved in illegal activities. Mom went with him a lot, too. Russ and I spent a lot of time by ourselves then."

"So…" Booth prompted.

"So what?" Bones was clueless. Booth would have to spell it out for her.

"So, you're angry with your Dad for spending less and less time with you as you got older."

"Yes, I think you're right," she said, genuinely surprised. No wonder she'd never dealt with this, Booth mused. She needed a road map for even the simplest leaps of logic when it came to her own emotions.

"How much time do you and your Dad spend together in a typical week?"

"You mean now?"

Booth nodded.

"I see him at work in passing, and we have dinner and play cards every Sunday night. You know that; I had you and Russ over to play cards with us a few times."

"You're right, it was great; but I didn't realize it was a weekly thing. That's really nice. So how do you feel about good old Dad now that you two see each other regularly?"

"I think he's trying very hard to make up for the past."

"Bones… have you forgiven him for the past?" Booth leaned his chin on her shoulder and looked at her, daring her to avoid his question. Although she squirmed a bit, she met his gaze and answered.

"By forgiven, do you mean have I forgotten the past and can I start over, fresh? Because I can't forget that he left me and Russ."

"My understanding of forgiveness is that it isn't forgetting what a person has done so much as we agree to start over and not hold onto the past mistakes of that person."

"That explanation helps me," she said, after mulling it over. "And I have had some experience with that definition of forgiveness since my father came back into my life. Somehow, if I take each day I am with Dad as a chance to just enjoy being with him, I feel that I am learning to love him now, in the present. This approach seems to work, Booth. But if I have to forget what happened and how I felt when he left, then I suppose I haven't forgiven him and I never will."

"You'll never forget, but you can deal with it and get past it."

"Booth," she said tentatively. "What about you? Have you forgiven your Dad?"

"No," he finally said grimly. "I'll tell you something, though. Watching you with your Dad has helped me more than you'll ever know. Maybe someday I'll get to where I can forgive my own father."

Booth looked so sad Brennan couldn't stop herself from throwing her arms around him. He tensed with surprise but it only took him a few seconds to recover himself and wrap himself around her. It felt so good to hold her close.

"You're good for me, Booth. Thank you."

"We're good for each other. As partners and as friends." He was nuzzling her hair in a distinctly not-just-friends manner. Brennan giggled.

"Just friends?"

"Maybe more than friends? I mean, if you're still okay with that. With being… more than friends."

Booth was beginning to stumble over his words. Usually he was the more sensitive one when they talked and the one more likely to end up hurt or irritated with Brennan, while she was at a loss as to what she may have said or done to upset him. Tonight, though, he felt like he was the one walking on eggshells. It was really important to him to not mess this up, so the fear of saying something that would scare Bones away from their fledgling relationship was paralyzing him, causing him to agonize over every word. To his delight and relief, Bones put an end to his uncertainty.

"I've been giving this a lot of thought, and I mean you're good for me on many levels. Booth—you're the most important person in my life."

"Really?" Her admission filled him with warmth.

She yawned. "Uh huh," she mumbled, closing her eyes and snuggling against him.

"Wait. Take off your jacket and get in here."

Dropping the jean jacket on the floor beside the bed, he pulled the covers up around them. Funny how being stranded in a car in the middle of a storm the night before had managed to break down barriers that now just seemed to want to stay down. It was the most comfortable, the most natural thing in the world to climb into the same bed, pull her up under his chin, settle down and close his eyes.

"Good night, Temperance," he whispered, enjoying the chance to use her given name. He really liked her name; he'd never told her that. He made a mental note to tell her in the morning.

"Good night, Seeley," she whispered back. He could hear the laughter behind it. He punched her shoulder.

"Don't call me Seeley."

"Sorry," she yawned. She was so not sorry; he could hear it in her voice. Unaccountably he found himself wishing she would call him Seeley more often. He liked the way it sounded when she said it. Now that really was a first; he hated his name.

"Tomorrow we need to get home as soon as we can. You and I have some detective work to do. This case seems to have a missing killer and a missing political aide. Maybe they're the same person?"

"I know—I have a similar theory. Tomorrow, Bones. We'll talk about it tomorrow. Relax. Sleep." He reached over and turned off the bedside lamp.

For several minutes together in the dark no words were said. The only sounds were the wind outside and their soft breathing as they drifted off.

"Bones," Booth said, startling her. The sound of her name rang loudly in the dark.

"What? I was asleep," she said, confused. Slowly, his hands ran up her back and came over her shoulders to gently grasp her cheeks. She could feel his warm breath. When he leaned in and brushed his lips back and forth across hers it seemed perfect. She smiled drowsily against his mouth.

"Good night, Booth."

"Love you, Bones."

As he drifted off to sleep, holding the woman he loved securely in his grip, Booth had the hazy, euphoric feeling of déjà vu, of coming home to a familiar place that for a while had been lost to him. Maybe dreams really did come true.

_That's it…_

_The End!_

_Hope you enjoyed it!_


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